


Of Fatal Flowers and Flirting

by Oddleoo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura likes sparkly things, Also everyone sucks at dancing, Crack and Angst, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pidge is a gremlin, Pining Lance (Voltron), Shiro is wise, except lance, he also dies but like only for a little bit, keith is confused, lance flirts alot, lance has no filter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 22:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddleoo/pseuds/Oddleoo
Summary: Considering the undeniable fact that Lance was an active participant in a 10000 year long intergalactic war against feline aliens, where danger and possible death were in the job description, he'd expected to go out with a bang. If he did happen to die, he'd at least want to go out nobly. Maybe he would die sacrificing himself for his team, or maybe save an entire planet from the Galra overlords. Hell, maybe he would be the one to take out the leader of the operation, Zarkon, but as collateral, lose his life. It was a fine price to pay for the universe's survival.He was certainly not expecting to die from food-poisoning.He should have realized sooner that maybe, alien drugs might actually be harmful to humans.Really, he shouldn't have gone to the stupid diplomatic ball at all. He was somewhat of a good actor, so he figured it wouldn't have taken much effort to feign sickness, pull out his all-too-effective puppy-dog eyes and plead with his team leaders to let him stay cooped up in the comfortable confines of his room all day.But of course, a party wouldn't be a party without Lance.





	Of Fatal Flowers and Flirting

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yall! This is my first fic on Ao3 and I'm trash for Klance. And Whump.  
> Feel free to comment about any mistakes, and yell at me about Klance and Voltron at my tumblr @the-oddest-odd

Considering the undeniable fact that Lance was an active participant in a 10000 year long intergalactic war against feline aliens, where danger and possible death were in the job description, he'd expected to go out with a bang. If he did happen to die, he'd at least want to go out nobly. Maybe he would die sacrificing himself for his team, or maybe save an entire planet from the Galra overlords. Hell, maybe he would be the one to take out the leader of the operation, Zarkon, but as collateral, lose his life. It was a fine price to pay for the universe's survival.  
He was certainly not expecting to die from food-poisoning.

He should have realized sooner that maybe, alien drugs might actually be harmful to humans.  
Really, he shouldn't have gone to the stupid diplomatic ball at all. He was somewhat of a good actor, so he figured it wouldn't have taken much effort to feign sickness, pull out his all-too-effective puppy-dog eyes and plead with his team leaders to let him stay cooped up in the comfortable confines of his room all day.  
But of course, a party wouldn't be a party without Lance.

~.~.~

"A ball? You mean from like Cinderella?"  
Coran and Allura tilted their heads in unison, eyebrows knit in confusion.  
"What is a Cinderella?"  
Lance belatedly realized that there was no way the Alteans could have known about the notorious Earth fables.  
Lance screwed his lips together in thought. Did Alteans have fairytales or at the very least, their own interpretations of them?  
"Cinderella's a princess." He said finally.  
Allura's eyes lit up impossibly brighter, clasping her hands in front of her.  
"You have Princesses on Earth? Do they sky-dance and eat kruelmi at royal feasts?"  
It was Lance’s turn to tilt his head in confusion. He of course had no clue what she was talking about but could gather from common sense that Cinderella did not eat... whatever it was she said.  
"No... but they do wear big dresses."  
Allura didn't seem all that disappointed by his answer, in fact, she seem unnervingly ecstatic.  
He opened his mouth to ask why she suddenly seemed to be plotting to make everyone in the castle wear giant frilly dresses with corsets that matched the color of their lions, but was cut off when Pidge came barreling over.  
"Do I have to wear a ball gown?" the small girl asked, voice full of dread.  
She was a creature of habit, and her habits included hating anything that was overly frilly. Lance thought she would probably rather die by the hands of Lotor than be caught wearing something that Cinderella probably wore every Tuesday.  
Allura clapped her hands, and Pidge’s face fell.  
"Yes! The Tallaruans have picked out special attire for each and every one of you!"  
Her eyes sparkled, and Lance remembered that despite how she seemed to act all wise and aged by war, she was still young at heart.  
She quickly stepped out of her strangely bubbly attitude and into her more conventional self. She stood tall, eyeing Lance and Pidge, and the other occupants of the room who looked equally pessimistic about the whole extravaganza.  
“It is important that we please these aliens so we are able to build a strong alliance. Voltron is strong, but it is nothing without help from other planets.”  
Everyone nodded, though reluctantly.  
Lance smiled.  
"Well, I for one am ready to finally wear something other than my armor and show off my great fashion sense to all those alien babes."  
A chorus of sighs reached Lances ear’s, but his words seemed to have somewhat lifted the moods of his reluctant friends. Well, most of his friends, but Keith was always a little grumpy.

~.~.~

Lance was a good dancer. Prided himself on his ability, in fact. He took dancing lessons (was forced to take them after his Mom’s insistence that he follow in his older siblings footsteps) from the ripe ages of 9 to 13. He could do anything from the classic hip-hop song, to the tango, to a graceful waltz.  
Yes, he was a good dancer, if the applause that usually followed his dance recitals were any indication.  
So why the hell was he struggling so much?  
He watched the Tallaruan woman woman move with such grace, she looked boneless. She circled the small dance room, extra arms doing infeasible squiggly motions. She stayed on the tips of her toes the whole willowy waltz. Lance thought that if she had a capable partner, the dance would have looked beautiful.  
Lance turned to his teammates. Hunk was watching, though not with much interest, Pidge was not so-subtly picking her nose, and Keith was zoning out at the white walls and mirrors that surrounded them.  
Clearly, none of them were all that capable.  
After she finished, she turned to his uninterested team, face slack with discontent.  
Lance hadn't really expected his team to be good dancers (he had already known that Hunk danced like a suburban white dad), but they were all just way too aware of their bodies.  
"That is how you dance the royal Tallaruan waltz." her eyes paned over everyone's faces before they finally landed on Lance’s.  
She lifted one of her 4 arms and pointed at him.  
"You." she said.  
Lance swallowed. "Me?"  
"Yes, you, the blue one. You have the most potential, I feel there is hope for you in learning this."  
Lance sideways glanced at his team, all of whom looked absolutely fed up with their dance teacher- who apparently was labeled the 'best of the best', specially chosen for team Voltron. Lance honestly felt the same, and he hadn't yet experienced her full wrath.  
He wouldn't be lying if he said the woman intimidated him. She reminded him of his 4th grade math teacher, Mrs. Calloway, who seemed to always have something to yell at Lance about. The middle aged woman probably blamed him, an unknowing 9 year old, for her impending divorce.  
It was all-too-familiar the way she scowled at him whenever he did something subpar, or addressed him as though he was a clueless boy without any talent.  
Lance half-heartedly lifted his arms, ready to once again try and fail to dance with the woman, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest.  
"No. Not me." Lance raised an eyebrow as she turned back to his team.  
She pointed one of her long purple fingers at Keith.  
"You." she simply said.  
Keith finally broke away from his thoughts and perked up, eyes wide like he'd been caught doing something considered illegal.  
The Tallaruan with a name Lance could only hope to pronounce correctly strolled over to Keith and poked him in the chest.  
His eyes narrowed dangerously, and Lance feared for a moment that he might pick up his Bayard and slice it through the large buns that sat atop her head.  
"You are like a Greulan tree in the winter months. All frozen and stiff. You are by far the worst of the bunch." She sounded so disappointed that Lance couldn't find it in himself to laugh (especially when Keith pouted angrily).  
Of course, Pidge could.  
Amidst her barely contained snickering, Mrs. Calloway (Lance had decided to call her that in change for butchering her real name) turned to Pidge and stared daggers with her pale blue eyes.  
"You shouldn't be laughing, Green one. You aren't much better."  
Pidge's laughter stopped, and Mrs. Calloway spun back around to face Lance. It was then that Pidge took the opportunity to flip the woman off with both hands. Shiro was excused from their trivial dance lessons (he had more important diplomatic things to attend to), but if he had been there, he surely would have given Pidge one of his signature 'dad looks'.  
"You have to teach the red one." Mrs. Calloway said. "Perhaps if he were to learn from someone he trusts, he will grasp the dance more effectively."  
The woman paid no mind to Lance's obligatory squeak of protest.  
"I feel this is the only way you will do remotely well." she finished.  
Lance squinted at the woman, hands waving around in clear disapproval.  
"You want me to dance with mullet-boy?"  
"No, I want you to dance with the Red Paladin."  
Lance sighed. "Mullet-boy is the Red- nevermind." he murmured under his breath.  
Lance looked over to Keith. The boy glowered at both Mrs. Calloway and Lance (but mostly at Lance).  
They both didn't move, instead just passively glared at each other (looking back on it now, one might mistake their silence for some serious sexual tension).  
Hunk began to whistle (it hardly did anything to fill the tense silence).  
Mrs. Calloway, the poor woman, was visibly very fed up with the two stubborn boys. After what seemed like an eternity to every party uninvolved in Lance and Keith's half-baked rivalry, Mrs. Calloway let out an exasperated sigh through clenched teeth.  
“Now I understand what your Princess meant when she said you Paladins are... difficult.”  
Lance tried not to take offense. He knew that he and the other Paladins didn’t exactly meet Alluras expectations as the defenders of the universe. The only person who seemed to really fit the part of ‘a paladin of Voltron; the strongest weapon in the universe’ was Shiro. He had the strong guy attitude and the PTSD to go with it.  
“If you have any ounce of care about forming a proper alliance with us, then you can put aside your problems with each other for just a moment and work with each other.”  
Lance thought she was beginning to sound more like his mom.  
Lance sighed, letting go of his fake-rivalry (a disguise for his true feelings), and his qualms against dancing quite intimately with the red paladin.  
He walked over to Keith and put his hand out, quite forcefully, and completely avoided eye-contact.  
Keith was of course taken aback, but after a prolonged moment of just staring awkwardly at Lance’s hand, he grabbed it.  
Lance sighed, knowing already that things were going to go very wrong.

 

To say that Keith looked uncomfortable would be the understatement of the year.  
He avoided any possible eye contact, as did Lance. But when they did happen to meet eyes even if briefly, they would both look away, like freaking middle schoolers.  
Worst of all, they looked like tomatoes, faces flushed from embarrassment (and something else) and Mrs. Calloway would not leave them alone.  
She circled them like a vulture, like they were her next prey and was anxiously awaiting the moment when she could sink her teeth into the poor unsuspecting boys.  
Since they now not only had embarrassment to fear, but their lives, dancing was just not an attainable feat.  
Lance thought that maybe they should probably take a break, but then Mrs. Calloway (maybe he should dub her 'the literal devil' from then on) shoved Lance forward, as if the two boys weren't already close enough.  
"You are too far from each other! You are teammates are you not?"  
Lance tried to refrain from openly glaring at the woman, while Keith glowered quite noticeably.  
Either the woman didn’t notice, or she simply didn’t care.  
Another 20 minutes elapsed before Mrs. Calloway finally left them to instead bother Hunk and Pidge, who were clearing trying to add some comical necessities into the drab waltz.  
Mrs. Calloway yelled at them with such force, Lance could almost feel the walls rattle.  
Lance turned his attention back to Keith, who instead of displaying the expected look of pure embarrassment, looked rather annoyed.  
Lance raised an eyebrow.  
“You okay?” It was kinda a stupid question, because none of them were okay. The lot of them were rather exhausted, and equal parts totally at wits end with their dance teacher.  
“No I’m not okay. I can’t get this stupid dance right.” Keith said it like he was talking about a very important test, or battle that was the determining factor to the course of his life.  
“You're fine.” Lance waved his hand as though believing he could wave the boys worries away.  
“No I’m not. You heard whatever her name is. I’m the worst on the team, I’m gonna mess it up for everybody.” Keith stared dejectedly at the floor, and Lance’s stomach twisted in sympathy. He was rather accustomed to the feeling of inadequacy in a group of very gifted people.  
Lance stared at Keith, and his almost indiscernible pout.  
He relented with a sigh.  
“Okay, how about this. Just think of it like... like a training thing.” Lance suggested.  
Keith tore his eyes from the ground to stare at Lance with scrutiny.  
“A training thing?”  
“Yeah, a training thing.” Lance felt himself suddenly grow weightless with the ingenuity of his suggestion.  
“I’ve watched you train, and I know you are never this stiff when fighting. Think of this dance as like, a training regimen or something.” Lance shrugged half-heartedly, turning to meet eyes with the smaller boy.  
Keith was looking at him with an odd mixture of emotion, the most stark emotion seeming to be embarrassed confusion.  
“You watch me while I train?” His voice was an octave higher than usual, and the pink dusted over his cheeks was becoming steadily more red.  
Oh crap, Lance thought.  
“Uh, Yeah? Gotta find out my rivals weaknesses and what better way to do that than watch you train?” He said it in such a tone that Lance was sure it was believable (he almost believed it himself).  
Lance swore he saw Keith’s face morph into one of disappointment, but then Mrs. Calloway returned to once again spread her reign of terror upon the two boys.

They continued to dance, and maybe it was just in Lance’s mind, or maybe Keith had good muscle memory, but the Red Paladin was actually getting better.  
He still stepped on Lances toes and tripped over his own feet, but Lance did too so, he’d call his advice a win.

It took another hour of stumbling on both Lance and Keith’s part to finally reach some semblance of waltzing.  
Pidge and Hunk were also significantly better, though both still tripped over their own two feet occasionally.  
At least they could laugh about it, bursting into howling laughs whenever Hunk stumbled and fell, and Mrs.Calloway lost a little more hope and patience. Lance and Keith, on the other hand, were so stiff, if they laughed it was forced and awkward -they sounded robotic.

It was somewhat less tense after a few underappreciated and facepalm worthy jokes, but Keith seemed intent on keeping up the whole red-in-the-face thing.  
Lance wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t so damn distracting (Lance admitted that Keith was absolutely adorable when he blushed, an occurrence as rare as a blue moon.)  
Keith stepped on Lance’s toes for the umpteeth time. He muttered a quick apology, but at that point, Lance was hardly annoyed. It was actually sort of comically cute ( he really needed to labeling the Red Paladin as cute.)  
Keith happened to fall forward, stumbling after stepping on the tips of Lance’s shoes.  Lance might have squeaked, or died a little inside, or some other completely plausible reaction, because he and Keith were chest to chest.  
Way too close for Lances fragile heart.  
They made eye contact for only a moment before Keith jumped away, and Lance was once again left looking like a damn middle schooler who just asked their crush out on a date to see some cheesy romance movie.

Lance was a magnet for bad luck. He often brought bad luck open himself with his mouth that lacked a filter of any sort.  
So when he spoke his next words, he hardly thought much of them before he had properly finished his sentence for a good 5 seconds.  
“Wow, Mullet. At least take me on a date first.”  
Lance was an idiot. Charming, but an idiot.  
There was silence. The kind of silence you hear after a kid has just talked back to their parent before all hell-breaks loose and suddenly that kids getting his ass-whooped. The kind of silence you hear before the gun goes off and the race begins. The kind of silence you hear before the teacher loses her marbles and starts yelling at her students, all pent up anger leaving in barely restrained curse-words and anger.  
Lance was glad to see that Pidge and Hunk had the kind of sense of humor that transcended awkwardness, otherwise Lance might have actually ejected himself into space.  
Because the expression on Keith's face was priceless.  
Photographable. He would have framed it and mounted it on his bedroom dresser, a literal work of art.  
"Lance I think you broke him!" Pidge was doubled over with tears in her eyes- Lance didn't think it was that funny or would constitute so much laughter (he figured they just wanted to capitalize on his embarrassment).  
Lance snuck a look at the blushing boy- and dammit- Lance was sure he broke himself too.  
And poor Mrs. Calloway. Sometime in the midst of Hunk and Pidge’s overly excessive howling, she had left the room, probably planning to resign as Tallarua’s best dance teacher.  
Lance shuffled away from Keith awkwardly. He wished he could reverse time, or maybe disappear or maybe just have the capacity to think before speaking.  
Keith opened his mouth to do just that, as the door to the dance room flew open.  
Perhaps the universe wasn't totally against Lance.  
Allura and Shiro ambled into the room with a tall Tallaruan woman in tow.  
"Paladins, how has your dance training been fairing?" Allura asked with bright eyes and an equally bright smile. The exhausted four only gave her a stony look in return.  
Pidge glanced quickly at Lance and then to Keith, eyes full of their typical slyness.  
"Oh, I think Lance thinks it going great." She made sure she was staring right at Lance as she spoke. Her glasses gleamed in the light of the dance room for a moment, and he thought she looked scarily similar to an evil scientist who was studying their next test subjects (which... she totally was).  
Lance’s embarrassment finally subsided in change for compulsory pettiness.  
"Yes, Pidge continues to dance as gracefully as a Gruelan tree in the winter months." He parroted Mrs. Calloways insult while keeping purposeful eye contact with the small but dangerous girl.  
"Wonderful!" Allura beamed while Pidge flipped him the bird, and the Tallaruan woman who followed in after their two leaders looked fairly confused.  
Lance peered at Shiro and waited for the expected look or for him to reprimand Pidge for her ‘maturity’, but his eyes sole focus seemed to be a red-faced Keith. Shiro raised an eyebrow. Keith said nothing.  
What happens in the dance room stays in the dance room, Lance guessed.  
Allura turned to the silent Tallaruan woman.  
"Paladins, I would like you to meet..." Allura trailed off.  
It was uncomfortably silent as Allura seemed to rack her brain for the hard-to-pronounce name. She looked at Shiro expectantly, but he only shrugged.  
The alien realized quickly that no one knew how to properly pronounce her name.  
"My name is Klehystäia, but you can call me by something else if will make your stay here any better." The woman smiled brightly, much brighter than seemed achievable of their dance teacher.  
Lance already knew the perfect name for her.  
"Mrs. Blue lion seems like the perfect name for a perfect girl like you." Lance winked, but the taller woman only seemed confused by his obligatory flirting.  
"Lance." Shiro's authoritarian presence loomed over Lance’s shoulder.  
Lance sighed. "Yea I know, that's 5 to the flirt jar. Cant blame a guy for trying."  
(yes, the aforementioned 'flirt jar' did in fact exist, and yes, Lance was completely insulted by it. It was full of an indeterminable amount of money- filled with different alien currencies they hadn't quite got around to figuring out the worth of. But it was full enough that Lance cringed inwardly whenever he happened upon it).  
"Don't listen to him, he's an idiot." Pidge said while Hunk nodded in agreement.  
Lance gaped at his best friend, but he only shrugged in turn.  
"Your name kind of sounds like Kelsey?" Hunk offered.  
Klehystäia nodded, and so did the rest of the paladins.  
Lance still thought Mrs. Blue lion was better- but he guessed Kelsey was fine. Even if he was 90% sure that the girl from 4th grade that threw a bag of apple slices at his face was named Kelsey.  
"I am here to escort you to your changing rooms. We have quite the attire picked out for the defenders of the universe." Kelsey's eyes were alight with the anticipation of being able dress the paladins like they were her own personal life-sized Barbie dolls.  
"Cant wait."  
"How fun."  
"Wooo."  
"Just kill me now."  
Lance felt somewhat better knowing his friends shared the same sentiment.

Kelsey led them out of the room. As they traveled through the halls, a loud voice reached Lance’s ears.  
"Did Grejaëlia really quit her job?" it said.  
Lance only felt a little bad for their dance teacher. It was a wonder the poor old woman hadn't used her extra arms to wring the necks of his fellow paladins.

Lance blatantly ignored Keith's questioning glares, Shiro's confusion, Pidge and Hunk's teasing, and Allura's abject excitement.  
He ignored a lot of important things that day- but it shouldn't have led to his very painful death, or his new legacy as they boy who died after eating a fucking flower.  
The Universe hated Lance.

~.~.~

Thinking back on his many years of dance lessons, he remembered how much he despised wearing the visually extravagant, but really cheap costumes his teachers always forced him and the other students to wear. One teacher in particular insisted that the costumes were a pivotal piece to their performance - that they added a necessary flair to their humdrum dance choreography (and made them look absolutely adorable and photogenic).  
Lance hated wearing those costumes, he was often teased by his older brother, and his mom and older sister would get all dramatic and coo at him (when he was well passed the age that cooing was appropriate).  
It was no different for the tux found lying in wait for him in his personal changing room. Visually, it appeared okay. It was blue- as expected for the blue paladin- and black. It was similar to the kind of suit you'd see a prince in your typical fairytale wearing, with epaulets and a tail and tassels.  
So, he allowed his hopes to raise if not just a little.  
But then he put the damn suit on, and his mind filled with familiar daunting flashbacks to horribly uncomfortable costumes, and wedgies, and teasing. He shivered.  
He felt like someone trying on skinny jeans for the first time. Uncomfortable, tight, chafing in all the wrong places. The collar wrapped around his neck like a turtle-neck two sizes too small.  
Lance sighed, knowing all too well what awaited him once he left the comfortable, forgiving walls of of the changing room.  
Before he could fall too far into self-deprecation, someone knocked on the door.  
"Come in."  
He tried not to sound as dreadful as he felt (he failed).  
Kelsey slowly pushed the door open, a smile planted on her lilac skin. She slinked into the room, extra arms holding a silver platter with flowers of many colors resting atop it.  
"You look absolutely ravishing!" Kelsey narrowly missed dropping the platter of flowers in her excitement. A red flower drifted slowly to the floor.  
"Thanks." Lance grit out a smile.  
She was far too enthusiastic for a day that was bound to go wrong. If their terrible dancing didn’t ruin their chances at creating an alliance, Lance would surely fuck up some other way. Probably by accidentally flirting with the Queen, or saying something greatly offensive without the intention to offend, or accidentally break some greatly admired object.  
Lance sighed, plopping himself on his temporary bed.  
Kelsey stared down at him, green eyes filled with concern.  
"Are you not well, Blue paladin? Do you wish to seek medical attention?"  
Lance shook his head, ineffectively shaking off his nerves, and smiled up at the beautiful girl.  
"I'm fine, Kels. Just a little nervous is all."  
Kelsey raised an eyebrow- whether confused by the odd nickname or why he was a bundle of nerves, Lance wasn't entirely sure.  
"You mustn't worry. Everything will go perfectly well." Kelsey dawdled over to the abandoned silver tray and plucked a white flower from the mess of color.  
"If you are that worried, you can eat this." She placed it in Lance's hands.  
It was small, slightly bigger than a quarter. Lance had certainly eaten flowers before- but he had been but a small reckless child. His mama had reprimanded him for eating one of the Hibiscus' in their garden, and assured him that if he ate more flowers, they would grow in his stomach. Of course, he hadn't eaten a flower again after that.  
"Why?" he asked. A plausible question- how could eating a flower be remotely beneficial?  
Kelsey smiled wide again, all giddy for all the wrong reasons.  
"Us Tallaruans have special flowers that make us susceptible to extreme calm. If you eat one, you will feel like your walking on air!"  
Lance wasn't sure if he wanted to feel like he was walking on air. He had tried walking on water once and that had been one of the greatest disappointments of his life - learning that he wasn't the water bender he'd believed he was in his soul.  
Lance studied the girl’s large smile, wondering if she had eaten a flower and that was the reason for her exaggerated giddiness and optimism.  
He pondered his decision for only a moment before plopping the white flower into his mouth.  
What did he have to lose? (everything, apparently)  
It wasn't particularly tasty- bitter and sour with a hint of... coffee? But it wasn't exactly gross either. Taste aside, the texture was all wrong. He felt like he'd eaten some stubborn cotton candy that just would not dissolve.  
The feeling vanished after a few seconds, and his mouth was bare of any lingering flavor- as if he hadn't eaten the flower at all.  
Kelsey studied him expectantly, waiting for the verdict.  
"It's... good? Thanks Kelsey. You're a real lifesaver."  
She grinned, patted Lance on his folded hands before ducking out of the room.  
Lance sighed inwardly, ran a hand through his hair to make it a fraction more presentable, and finally left his hiding place to face his inevitable doom.

It was somewhat relieving to discover he wasn't the only one suffering.  
He entered the hallway and his eyes first registered the color yellow. Bright, nearly neon yellow.  
Under the yellow, and the black, was a very uncomfortable looking Hunk.  
His suit was similar in style to Lance's, but had a higher collar and came equipped with a black cane (seemed a little extra for Lance’s tastes).  
He looked like a big miserable bumble bee.  
Lance and Hunk both burst into uncontrollable shrieks of laughter.  
"You look like a bumblebee!"  
"You look like Coran!” Hunk spluttered between gasps.  
Lance thought the blue suit looked a little familiar. The mention of their stylish space uncle only worked to send Lance into another round of gasping laughter. His mood was alleviated, whether it was because of his best friend, or the white flower, he was thankful for the temporary solace.  
Lance’s laughter subsided to simple chuckles. “I take that as a compliment. Coran is-“ Lance’s voice dropped a few octaves and he took on a familiar Australian accent, “a gorgeous man”  
Hunk was keeling over with laughter once again.  
Their laughter stopped when Shiro and Allura stepped into the hallway of adjoining rooms.  
Allura looked as ravishing and regal as ever, clad in an exquisite pastel purple ball gown. It flared out below her waist quite dramatically- looking almost Victorian in nature.  
She didn’t look too upset by the tumultuous amount of fabric on her body, but she didn’t look all that happy either. What Lance guessed was about 5 pounds of jewelry adorned her head and neck. She stood as straight as a board- the purple corset around her torso no doubt the cause for her odd posture and lackluster smile.  
He winced in sympathy.  
Lance’s eyes paned to Shiro.  
He was hardly able to keep his sympathetic laughter at bay.  
The thing about metallic, robotic, cybernetic arms, is that they are quite dangerous. Given that some unfortunate circumstance happened and Shiro had to put his deadly arm weapon to use, the clothing would no doubt limit that much needed weapon.  
So, as a precaution, the well-meaning aliens had ripped off the left sleeve of his suit.  
It was very aesthetically displeasing to the eyes -it completely unbalanced the whole ostentatious objective. His suit was also unfortunately white, rather than the somewhat appealing black the other Paladins wore. Maybe white was a color of esteem to the Tallaruans, and they felt the need to show Shiro’s great leadership to the citizens of Tallarua? Whatever the reason, Shiro had tried to mask his aversion to the uncomfortably tight clothing, with tight-lipped smiles that unknowing eyes would mistake for true gratefulness. But Lance knew. He knew.  
So there the four of them stood, equally mortified, and equal parts totally done with the whole arrangement.

Lance whistled, waiting for the inevitable entrance of the green and Red Paladins. He shifted from foot to foot, his anxiety returning for a split second. He not so subtly adjusted the parts of the suit that dug too deep into places where the sun don’t shine.  
And then it was gone.  
One second, he was stressing over the invariably difficult waltz that awaited him -the inevitable failure- and the next second he felt as though he could eject himself into space and still return for the ceremony and the free food that came with it.  
His mind and body pulsed with a renewed confidence and enthusiasm. His feet itched to do something other than stand and wait.  
Hunk tapped him on his epaulets (that’s sounds much weirder than it should) with eyebrows knit in confusion and something else Lance couldn’t pinpoint.  
“Bro, are you okay?” He asked, eyes squinted, traveling over Lance’s face in what he assumed was concern.  
“Just great, thanks for asking.” Lance swayed back and forth on the tips of his toes, face lighting up with an almost maniacal smile. “I’m gonna nail this dance.”  
Lance felt oddly detached from his body- like he’d been decapitated and was now just a floating head. Lance vaguely wondered if this was what his mom felt like in her self proclaimed “calming yoga-sessions”.  
“Are you sure? You look kinda...” Hunk trailed off, lips screwing up in thought. Apparently there were no existing words that could properly describe Lance in that moment.  
“Gorgeous? Thanks, You don’t look too bad yourself -even if you look a bit like a bumblebee.” Lance seemed to be having a harder time than usual properly filtering his thoughts- they spilled from his lips like a broken sink in an abandoned house.  
Lance hadn’t noticed how his words had missed their intended show of bravado, instead coming out monotonous and drunk.  
Hunk opened his mouth -most likely intending to ask Lance what the hell he was on- when the door at their right flew open.  
“-look fine! I am certain your friends will believe so too.”  
A low grumble reached Lance’s ears, garnering the attention of everyone in the hallway. Curious eyes fell upon the new addition to the palpably awkward hallway.  
The universe surely had a grudge against Lance. Maybe for that time he had fished money from the space mall fountain, or maybe for that time in the 5th grade when he’d stuck a wad of gum underneath his teachers desk, and then blamed it on Jason when the teacher had accidentally touched it (Jason was a bully though- dude had it coming.)  
Lance thought he didn’t deserve such a punishment.

There stood Keith, a scowl digging into his otherwise beautiful face. He was dressed in red and black. His suit was nearly identical to Lance’s, save for the color and the slits in the sides of his sleeves that exposed the pale skin and muscle underneath. The most gut churning thing, however, was not his clothes, rather it was the one thing that Lance believed was his one fatal flaw.  
His damn hair.  
Keith’s hair wasn’t that long, but it was long enough that one could bring it into a low ponytail, or braid it without hair threatening to spill from the intricacies. Lance often wondered if Keith's hair was long enough for him to braid it (he had had much practice, as he was the resident hairstylist of his household, quite adept at buns and double dutch braids).  
He no longer had to wonder. Keith’s hair had been weaved into two elaborate braids, which met at the back of his head in a low ponytail. It was tied off with a red elastic decorated with a tiny red rose-looking flower.  
Keith crossed his exposed arms over his chest. Lance watched his muscle ripple with the movement. Keith stared at the floor as though it had offended him, and he in turn had offended it too.  
Lance thought the floor had the right to be offended, in fact, Lance too was offended.  
Who gave him to right to look so good?  
Lance swallowed hard, and Hunk chuckled beside him.  
It was then that Keith looked up, and his eyes instantly locked with Lance’s.  
His eyes narrowed.  
"What are you looking at?"  
Lance really wished he hadn't eaten that flower- it was really screwing with his brain. Lance's mind filled with the all the possible quips before he found the the perfect insult.  
A mistake, he thought.  
"Perfection." he said.  
Lance realized he was the real mistake.  
The tense silence that followed couldn't be cut with the sharpest of blades.  
Keith Kogane was not a boy of many facial expressions, but the reaction that followed Lance’s proclamation was practically a full cinematic piece.  
Firstly, his face morphed into confusion, with downturned eyebrows and slightly parted lips. Secondly, his eyebrows slowly lifted and his nose scrunched up. And then his mouth fell open along with his purple eyes in unchecked recognition. And then came the inevitable flow of blood, gathering at his cheeks, and the tips of his ears. He was the center of attention for all prying eyes.  
"Oh my god." Hunk whispered.  
What was meant to come out as an insult had come out as a profession of his internalized crush (Lance really needed to start thinking before speaking).  
Along with his one word, his face was displaying a dreamy sort of look -one he'd usually reserve only for the prettiest of aliens or Keith when his back was turned- for reasons unbeknownst to him.  
Lance was screwed. Absolutely, utterly screwed.  
He opened his mouth, ready to give a proper excuse as to why he had kind of flirted with the one person no one (everyone) expected him to flirt with, but before he could embarrass himself further, the flagrant voice of the Green Paladin filled the hallway.  
"If any of you say a word I swear I will pummel you!"  
Pidge stepped into view.  
The first thing that Lance’s eyes fell upon was the color Green- the Allaruans were evidently intent on keeping up with the color coordination.  
It was in her hair, which was woven intricately with green ribbons. The two ribbons trailed down her back, much longer than her actual hair. Her dress -similar in style to Allura’s except significantly less poofy- was fitted to her small frame with an emerald corset. Pidge didn't have anything against dresses- she had worn them all the time before joining the 10000 year intergalactic war- but she looked the most miserable out of all of them.  
Lance definitely had a death wish, because he did nothing to hold back the raucous laughter that burst from his body. Maybe because he wanted an excuse not to have to explain to the anxiously waiting Keith why he had said what he had said, or maybe it was the alien drugs that were muddling his brain and making him completely blind to possible danger.  
It hardly mattered what the reason was, because Pidge's face filled with some unforeseen rage, and she decked him in the stomach.  
It didn't hurt much- considering the small girl had noodle arms- but it did wonders on his ego.  
"Pidge." Shiro warned with his signature dad voice.  
She muttered something angrily under her breath, along the lines of absolutely hating diplomacy.  
Lance couldn't have agreed more.  
He was thankful for the disruption. Pidge had gleaned the attention of everyone in the hallway long enough for Kelsey to return, and Lance to be saved the hassle of an embarrassing explanation.  
Her lively voice reanimated, and for once Lance was grateful for the annoying peppiness.  
"The time for the dance ceremony has come! I wish you all good luck, may the stars shine upon you all!"  
Lance was the first to leave the room, noticeably trying to avoid any eye contact with any of his confused (and one embarrassed) teammates.

~.~.~

Lance traveled down the hallway with a certain skip in his step (well what he believed looked like a skip in his step, but probably looked more like a limp).  
His body felt impossibly completely made of air, like he was a ghost of the human he once was before. He wondered if he looked as pale as a ghost too.  
He probably looked somewhat odd, if the concerned (almost bewildered) looks his friends kept passing him were any indication.  
He rushed ahead of the others to fall into step with Kelsey, who had a bright smile planted on her lilac face, eyes gleaming with hope.  
He cleared his throat.  
"So... Kelsey... I gotta ask... What exactly was in that flower that you gave me?"  
His head felt oddly like it had been pumped full of helium, like it had become a balloon and was now attached to his body by a thin string. He nearly laughed thinking about it. Balloon head.  
He decided that his mom was telling the truth when she said drugs would fuck you up (she hadn't said it exactly like that, but his 13 year old self interpreted it as any 13 year old would).  
"The flowers of Tallarua have sprout from the soil as a result of the stars that have fallen from the sky to the ground below our feet." Kelsey explained wistfully, eyes looking at the ceiling, probably picturing shooting stars.  
"Yea... that makes sense."  
It really didn't, but that was the only explanation he had thus far.

Realistically, Lance knew that there was no way he could possibly dance well when he couldn't really feel his body at all. He was doomed to dance offensively, doomed to displease the Queen, and doomed to die by decapitation by the Queen's loyal subjects.  
He swallowed the lump in his throat, turning back to his team. They chatted animatedly. Shiro and Keith talked quietly.  
He cleared his throat, earning the attention of Pidge and Hunk.  
"Uh Guys...? I'm not really feeling that well. Is there anyway I can sit this one out?"  
Lance was normally one to be dramatic -but he figured he looked horrible enough that they would believe him.  
He was wrong.  
Pidge rolled her eyes.  
"Nervous much?"  
Lance gaped at the small girl (rather the glorified fairy princess that had taken place of Pidge).  
"Me? Nervous? Never!" he scoffed, swiveling on his heels (he swears his head only swam a little).  
"Okay well then maybe you're chickening out because you know you will die on the spot having to dance with-" her voice dropped to a whisper, "Keith."  
Lance quickly glanced at Keith to see if he'd heard, but he was too busy glaring at the floor. Apparently, whatever Shiro had told him wasn't what he wanted to hear.  
Lance breathed a sigh of relief.  
He knew Pidge was purposely riling him up, maybe trying to build his confidence. He appreciated her well-meaning badgering, but he actually needed to lie down before he spilled his guts all over her and his beautiful clothing.  
"I'm being serious! I need-"  
A heavy hand dropped down on his left epaulet.  
Lance's whole body tensed with the anticipation (or rather the impending doom) that was about to rain down down upon him and his fragile-to-authority heart.  
"Lance." the baritone voice said. "No need to be nervous. You're the star of the show. We need you."  
Lance gulped. He'd expected a reprimand, not that. That was definitely worse than getting scolded, because there was no way he was going to disappoint his role model.  
He looked at the expectant and proud face of his well-meaning leader, and all qualms against dancing flew out the metaphorical window.  
He swallowed his pain.  
"Aye aye captain. You can count on me." He saluted with an over exaggerated wink (Lance was sure his salute looked more like a karate chop to the air, as every single body part of his seemed to have a mind of their own, but the similar ultimate goal to kill Lance by mortification.)  
Shiro, and Allura, and everyone else who had been watching his poor attempt at nonchalance rolled their eyes.  
He smiled through clenched teeth.  
They continued walking, and no one seemed to notice how with every step, Lance grew more and more detached from his body.  
Lance came to the conclusion that, even though his body felt entirely made of air, he would do this for his team- even if was the last thing he did.

~.~.~

It was, in fact, the last thing he did.  
Looking back on it now, it was a sort of comical series of unfortunate events that lead to his death.  
The first and foremost thing that should have prompted Lance to seek medical attention, were the hallucinations.  
He might have thought the birds flapping around the spacious ballroom were real (because he wasn't well-versed in the culture of aliens. Maybe they purposely allowed birds to fly and plop shit all over the ballroom floors and into the meticulous hairdos of guests simply because of aesthetic?). But then he pointed out the colorful birds to Allura, and she had stared at him with such profound confusion, he thought maybe he had sprout a second head- and he proceeded to hallucinate himself with a second head in the reflection of the polished marble floors.  
Lance had pretended "look at all these birds!", was an Earthen metaphor. Allura had believed him. (He hoped she wouldn't start actively using it as though it was an actual metaphor).

The second thing was the pain. As much as he had hated the symptoms of 'helium head' and 'ghost body', he preferred that over feeling like his body was burning from the inside out.  
He tried to keep his wincing and squeaking to a minimum.  
There was a row of fancy chairs in front of the rest of the less fancy chairs that the Tallarua citizens occupied. In front of all those chairs was an open space for Lance and the other Paladins to presumably dance in, and in front of that all, was a stage.  
On the stage was a woman, exuding regality and prosperity. She was dressed in a long silver dress, and atop her mass of black hair, was a sliverl crown.  
The Queen was beautiful to say the least.  
"The Queen is going to make a speech before you commence the royal waltz. Good luck, Paladins." Kelsey dismissed herself, not before sending Lance an encouraging smile.  
They sat on the fancy chairs, and Lance was only relieved of his pain for a cathartic moment.  
And then an arrow of pain pierced through his stomach.  
He squeaked audibly.  
Luckily, only his teammates seemed to hear him.  
He flashed an easy-going grin, waving (karate-chopping) away their worry with a wave of his hand.  
They appeared convinced, though the lot of them looked very confused.  
Lance minutely thought he should have asked Kelsey to give him some other drug that would counteract the effects of the 1st drug. He searched the crowds for the lilac body that had, by association, brought him into this mess.  
He was smacked over the head by a pale hand, Pidge demanding with her squinted eyes to pay attention.  
Lance honestly wasn't sure what he was supposed to be paying attention to.  
The Queen had begun her customary speech but, either the Queen was speaking in a language unknown to his ears, or he was really beginning to trip balls. 

It was only fitting that Keith came to speak to him in the midst of all his hallucinations and jumbled thoughts.  
Lance figured that at this point, with everything that was going wrong, that the bad luck he had obtained from breaking his Abuela's favorite hand mirror was finally manifesting on that cursed day.  
"We need to talk about what you said earlier." Keith whispered.  
Lance could only seem to think about how nice his voice sounded. It reminded him of what it was like to wake up to the sound of his Mom’s velvet singing at the butt crack of dawn every morning, a pan of steaming eggs on the stove below her.  
Lance flashed a lopsided smile, fit for a person who had one drink too many.  
"There's n'thing to talk 'bout." He surely sounded about as articulate as a frat boy on a Saturday night.  
Keith raised an eyebrow.  
Lance thought his confused face was adorable, like a cute confused cat.

A few seconds elapsed before Lance realized he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. A deep red bloomed across Keith's cheeks.  
"Whoops. Looks like the cats out of that bag." Lance giggled at the totally intended pun.  
Lance bopped him on the nose.  
Keith's blush didn't last for very long.  
"L-Lance are you-" His voice dropped dangerously low. "Are you drunk?"  
Lance thought it was funny how offended he sounded. Like, he thought it was totally irresponsible for a defender of the universe to get a little tipsy.  
“No! I’m a good boy I would never drink on the job! Why do you have so little faith in me, Keith?”  
Lance put his hands on the sides of Keith’s face. “Do I look drunk to you?” He said, words spilling out of his mouth like the vomit that was to inevitably come. Keith’s eyes widened, cheeks pinking with embarrassment, even as Lance took his hands away to grab his own throbbing head.

This whole interaction hadn't gone unnoticed by his nosy teammates.  
While they had been watching with devious smiles before, they now watched with concern.  
"Lance are you okay?" Hunk asked. Lance thought his voice sounded like rain, ceaseless in its calming tapping against his bedroom window.  
"He must be really nervous. Look at how much he's sweating." Pidge said, words dipped in what Lance could only identify as disgust. Her voice was like the crunch of the sand beneath his feet.  
"I don't think that's nerves. He said he wasn't feeling well earlier." Shiro put a hand on Lance’s back. His voice was like the whistling wind, and the odd solace that came from it.  
Lance swallowed.  
The Queen finished her speech.  
“M’ fine guys.” He stood on his unsteady legs, feeling much like he had spent an eternity on a boat and was only just getting used to steady ground.  
“Lets dance.” He said, lacking any sort of the intended determination.  
“Lance stop!” Allura called after him, words laced with worry. The chirping of birds in the bright blue mornings.  
It was a wonder Lance managed to stay standing so long.  
The Queen was, in lack of better words, quite confused when Lance, instead of doing the expected twirl that started the royal Tallaruan waltz, fell forward quite dramatically and landed flat on his face.  
“Is this how you Paladins greet people?” The Queen has asked, watching as the other Paladins scrambled over to Lance with his name on their tongues.  
Lance stared unblinking at the wide expanse of white marble above him. He tried to sit back up, to play his fall off like it was in fact a way of salutation, but his body continued to be practically nonexistent to his brain. He was paralyzed.  
Faces obscured the beautiful white, faces morphed into concern. Their mouths opened and closed rapidly, and Lance realized they were talking to him.  
“Lance? Lance! Can you hear me!” Keith yelled.  
Their voices sounded like the were coming from a radio with poor connection, all static and no clarity.  
Fingers snapped in front of his eyes, but they were slapped away by a tan hand.  
“M’Fine.” Lance slurred.  
Was it possible for one to die from eating a flower? Perhaps it wasn’t the flower that was killing him, maybe the planet of Tallarua had some kind of dormant plague in the air, and Lance had breathed in the airborne virus, and now he was on the brink of death?  
Lance’s cheek was suddenly tingling, and by the chorus of yells that followed the loud clap, Lance realized he’d been slapped.  
“Pidge!” Allura yelled. He surprised when none of them laughed. He wouldn’t blame them if they did happen to laugh though, because the whole ordeal was pretty hilarious, ridiculous in its tragic truth.  
Lance was dying.  
“I’m dying.” Lance had cried. Because he was actually crying now. He figured his team wouldn’t think he was being dramatic, despite his constant theatrical antics. He imagined he already looked quite dead, so melodrama was allowed.  
Someone was crying. Whimpering sadly.  
It broke Lance’s heart to hear his best friend, someone usually so positive seemingly giving into pessimism.  
He didn’t like that he was the reason for Hunk’s tears.  
A hand was now carding through his hair, and Lance was reminded of home.  
“Shhh, Lance. You’re going to be fine. We have contacted Coran, but we have to pick you up now, Okay?”  
Allura didn’t seem to care that he didn’t acknowledge her attempts at consolation, that he wasn’t really responding to anything (he hardly reacted to Pidge’s well-intentioned slap.)  
He was scooped up bridal-style into someone’s large arms.  
Lance finally opened his tightly clamped eyes, tears spilling out freely from the dull blue orbs.  
It was only fitting that Shiro be the one to carry him, being the most muscular and most acquainted with parental action.  
"Shiro?" Lance rasped through his clenched jaw.  
Lance hardly felt any solace in the knowledge that they were almost there, when he wasn’t really sure where there was.

The next thirty seconds were a blur.  
A sudden need to cough bubbled up in Lance’s chest.  
He hacked, his whole body convulsing with the strain of it, and out of his throat came crimson blood.  
“Shit.” Lance said.  
And then there was blood everywhere.  
He had seen in the horror movies when someone would get possessed by some vengeful demon, and there eyes would roll back and they would cry blood and all that overly lexcessive crap.  
He hardly thought that such thing was actually possible.  
But here he was. Crying blood, coughing up metallic tasting fluid, lukewarm liquid streaking from his nose and ears.  
Blood was coming from every orifice of his body (yes every orifice… he would apologize to the person who made his costume in good time, that is, if he didn’t die first).  
“Oh my god, Lance.” A voice squeaked. He recognized it as Pidge. He didn’t like how she sounded so scared.  
“Fine.” Lance murmured, unwillingly blowing red bubbles with the mix of spit and blood that caked his lips.  
“Lance, stay with me.” Another voice said.  
Lances eyes slipped closed. Lance thought it felt sort of relaxing.  
He died to the sound of someone yelling his name.

~.~.~

He saw the light.  
Like, actually literally saw the light for a few ataractic moments. It wasn't really like Hollywood portrayal of the light. It was calming, but Lance didn't feel a unquenchable need to go towards it. Lance later realized the light had actually just been the blue light of a healing pod. Lance took pride in his melodrama.  
He was very cold.

It was only after he was able to open his eyes, and was falling forward, that he realized he had cheated death.

He fell into the solid chest of who he could only assume was Hunk, if the silent whimpers were any indication.  
“Lance, buddy!” He yelled happily, practically squeezing the life out of him (a horrible choice of words, considering he had literally died.)  
“Hey.” He said half-heartedly, the exhaustion from a long cryopod sleep still thick in his mind.  
“Dude, we thought you were a goner! I thought I had lost my best friend forever! Lance you should have seen yourself you looked like an actual ghost! I mean-“  
Lance gave him a sordid look, silently pleading with him not to remind him of his dismal moments before death.  
Hunk smiled apologetically.  
“We’re all glad you're okay.” Hunk said.  
Lance smiled, and he was glad too.  
He scanned the room, frowning upon realizing it was empty save for Hunk and himself.  
"Where is everyone?" He tried to sound nonchalant about the extreme lack of presence in the dimly lit room. It had to be the middle of the night, space time, but Lance though that he still would've been there if it was his teammate in the healing pod -sleep be damned.  
Hunk must have noticed his clipped tone. He shook his head, a small smile of endearment forming on his lips.  
“Everyone was waiting here for you to wake up, believe me, but Allura said it was unhealthy for us to sleep and spend so much time in front of your pod, so after the first week-“  
Lance swiveled on his foot, ignoring the wave of exhaustion, and his tired limbs to gape at the other boy.  
“First week? How long was I in there?”  
Hunks face fell, and Lance finally noticed the black eye bags that rested comfortably beneath his dark eyes.  
“A little over 2 weeks.”  
“2 weeks!”  
Lance had believed he’d been in the pod for a few days at most. He thought that he hadn’t been dead for so long that he would need such extensive healing.  
Hunk placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder comfortingly.  
“You’re alive, that’s all that matters.”  
Lance grumbled a response.  
Hunk sighed, though a pensive smile seemed to grace his features for a few seconds, reveling in the presence of his almost dead best friend.  
“So where is everybody?” Lance asked again.  
“Oh- well we decided to watch over you in shifts. Right now is my shift, and next shift would have been Keith, before me it was Pidge. Anyways, I should probably tell them your awake.” Hunk jogged over to the pod Lance had spent a little over 2 weeks in and pressed a button on it. It started flashing.  
Lance slowly lowered himself to the floor, his legs deciding that they had been holding his weight too long.  
Lance thought idly about his friends and how they felt about his almost death.  
Lance sucked in a deep breath suddenly, eyes blowing wide.  
“Wait- did you say that Keith had next shift?” If felt weird addressing what would have been them monitoring him as’ shifts’, like he was a job that had to be divided amongst people who weren't all that willing to do said job.  
Hunk took a seat next to him.  
“Yea? Why does that bother you?”  
Lance wrapped his arms around himself. He recalled the interactions that had elapsed between him and the Red Paladin before he had lost consciousness. He had called him attractive a grand total of 2 times. He cradled his face in his hands.  
“Do you not remember what happened? What I said?” Lance acted like what he had said would inevitably lead to the end of the world. Which it totally would. It would lead to Lance's second death by embarrassment.  
Hunk laughed.  
“Don't laugh at me! This is a very serious issue! I called him attractive, Hunk. 2 times!”  
Hunk, the amazing best friend that he was, continued to laugh good-naturedly. Lance though, couldn't find it himself to be mad, as it was abundantly better than hearing his dejected cries.  
Hunks laughter finally died down to simple chuckles, and Lance gave him a stony look.  
“You done?”  
Hunk wiped at his eyes (which did not have any tears in them, he did it for the sole purpose of adding to Lance's embarrassment).  
“He probably hates me. I've probably ruined our friendship.” Lance cried out dramatically, falling back onto his back and nearly hitting his head against the cryopod.  
“I don't think you have to worry about that. He literally saved your life.” Hunks eyes suddenly widened, and he belatedly clamped a hand over his mouth.  
Lance shot back up.  
“What?”  
Hunk winced. “I've said too much.”  
Lance opened his mouth to argue that no, he hadn't said nearly enough, when the doors of the medbay slid open, and 5 other bodies entered the room.  
“Lance!” they all yelled, and Lance hardly had time to properly deadpan at Hunk before he was pulled into a warm group hug.  
They cried, and Lance forgot about what Hunk had said. He reveled in the comfort the hug brought about, the warmth and the solace.  
He smiled, happy tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.  
"We are quite happy to see you awake. You gave us quite a scare!" Coran said in his cheerful, accented voice.  
“I gave myself quite a scare. I think I actually saw the light.” he laughed, but the others did not.  
“Don't joke like that! You actually stopped breathing! For 3 minutes!” Pidge yelled angrily, but then buried her face into Lances chest.  
“Sorry.” Lance ruffled her hair.  
He lifted his gaze from the short girl. Blue eyes met purple.  
“Are you okay?” Keith asked.  
Lance nodded, a tight lipped smile stretched across his face.  
“Yeah thanks to Keith.” Pidge whispered not-so-subtly.  
“Pidge!” Many voice chorused in tandem, Keith quite possibly being the loudest.  
Lance raised both eyebrows in confused shock.  
“What?” he squeaked.  
A palpable silence followed, thick with unanswered questions.  
Lance looked over at Keith expectantly, and found that the boy was looking down at his feet with a very visible red blooming across his cheeks.  
He felt as lost as a boy in a corn maze. When he looked at Hunk, he only shrugged. Coran was twirling his mustache between his fingers, looking between Keith and Lance with the slightest of smiles.  
“I think maybe you two have some talking to do.” Shiro finally broke the silence, and Lance watched with dread as the others nodded in agreement.  
“Actually i'm really hungry, and I need to use the bathroom, looks like this conversation is going to have to-”  
Allura stepped in front of him, face and posture impossibly regal.  
She didn't have to say anything for Lance to shrink back under her intense gaze. She grinned victoriously.  
“I'll leave you to it.” she sounded far too enthusiastic for something that was bound to end in tears, or blood, or both.  
They fled the room quite quickly, devious smiles on all their faces. Lance watched them leave accusingly.  
Then it was just him and Keith, and the tension between them.  
It was silent for longer than seemed comfortable. Lance was starting to wish he had died, as it would have been loads better than having to deal with the embarrassment that weighed down on him.  
He let out a breath.  
“So… i've heard that you saved my life somehow?” Lance tested the waters (waters which were shark invested and brimming with anxious jellyfish).  
Keith continued to squint down at his shoes as if they held all the answers to his problems. Lance vaguely thought that his problems couldn't be half as tiresome as his.  
“I wouldn't go that far. I just…”Keith trailed off, and his cheeks pinked up again.  
It was endearing, the way his cheeks puffed up into what could only be discerned as a pout. Lance wished he hadn't found it endearing, but the universe was clearly not working in his favor as of late.  
“You just what? Do you secretly have some kind of surgical knowledge? Or was it your Galra powers? Do you have Galra powers? I mean I know they have like super strength and are super tall and-”  
“Lance.” Keith interrupted Lance’s idle ramblings.  
“Sorry.”  
Keith let out an exasperated sigh (Lance thought he should be the one sighing in exasperation, considering how completely lost he was).  
“I… revived you.” Keith finally said, probably believing that that was explanation enough. It hardly cleared up any of the confusion in Lance's head.  
“Revived me? What do you mean-”  
Keith's face became all red once again, and suddenly everything became very clear.  
“Oh.”  
It was an extreme understatement for the true emotional turmoil that raged within him.  
“Oh? What does that mean?” Keith's face was impossibly redder, and Lance knew his own face rivalled his tenfold.  
“It means, ‘oh’ that's what it means.” Lance spluttered, wrapping his arms around his chest defensively.  
Lance figured that Shiro would be the person most likely to know CPR, and that keith of all people would be the least likely to willingly give Lance CPR. To actually knowingly, with no hesitation, kiss Lance (granted it was to save Lance's life, but that hardly mattered. Lance was honestly more upset at the prospect that Keith's lips had touched his own, and he had been too dead to remember it.)  
Lance sighed.  
“Well, it's not how I imagined our first kiss, but i'll take it.”  
It took a grand total of 5 seconds for Lance to realize what he said, and another 5 seconds for Lance to properly freak the fuck out.  
Keith made an incoherent sound, before letting out a well-articulated, “what?”  
Quiznak, Lance thought.  
He was already speed-walking to the medbay exit, trying to ignore as Keith called after him.  
“I have to go- use the bathroom.”  
“Lance!” Keith latched a hand onto his shoulder.  
“Keith, are you really going to neglect me of my needs? How shallow of you.”  
Lance figured that nonchalant humor was his best escape from his inevitable rejection and embarrassment.  
“Lance cut the crap, did you mean what you said before, in the dance room and then during the speech?” Keith's eyes scanned over Lances face. Lance tried to ignore the way it made his stomach do somersaults (quiznak, he was acting like a middle schooler with a hopeless crush on the most popular kid in school. Quite pathetic).  
“I was high on space flower drugs, so I don't really remember what your referring to.” he lied through his teeth.  
His mom had told him countless times that he excelled at many things, but one of those things was not lying. He was a terrible liar, even worse than Hunk. He got all jittery and visibly uncomfortable - he was seldom able to keep a straight face when faced with authority.  
So when Keith gave him that look, with his purple eyes and pink cheeks, and unequivocal disbelief, he could hardly keep himself from spewing the truth.  
“Fine! I like you okay? I've liked you since the Garrison, even with your stupid hair and stupidly cute eyes. So go ahead and make fun of me already. Haha loverboy Lance fell in love with loner Keith, he's such a cliche. Just put me out of my misery already so I can-”  
“Shut up Lance. I'm going to kiss you now.”  
“Wait what-”  
Lance vaguely thought that if he had somehow been revived with Keith’s kiss, that said kiss could surely kill him too.  
Because Lance melted. He died all over again.  
He melted into Keith's feather light touches and his surprisingly soft lips. Keith kissed like he did everything else, daring but with full intent.  
Lance fingers tangled into Keith's hair. He felt his smile against his lips.  
It wasn't life-changing, neither of them were practiced in the art of kissing, but it was perfect nonetheless. Lance thought he could spend the rest of his life kissing keith and be perfectly fine.  
Lance was impossibly through the moon, giggling like a quiznaking middle schooler.  
They were both smiling, forehead to forehead.  
“That's more like how I imagined that.”  
Keith rolled his eyes.  
It was then that someone yelled out “finally!”, and Lance hardly had room in his ecstasy-filled brain to feel embarrassed.  
For all intents and purposes, Lance was somewhat glad he had died.

~.~.~

Lance found out later that he had not doomed the alliance between Voltron and the Tallaruans. Apparently, the Queen had found it quite noble that Lance was willing to die for the sake of the alliance, and had happily joined the coalition. When Voltron visited the Tallaruans again to speak about battle strategy and such things, Lance was bombarded with apologies from Kelsey. Lance obviously forgave her- he knew her intentions were good. Lance and Keith also ran into their old dance teacher. First, she had scowled at them (Lance figured they deserved it), but then she caught sight of their interlocked hands and had smiled knowingly.

And then they had met up with the Queen. She walked up to them in her silver garb and gleaming crown, poised and regal.  
And promptly fell flat on her face.  
She believed with her whole existence that that was how humans greeted people.  
It took every fiber of his being to refrain from bursting into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Lmao I had a lot of fun writing this.  
> Also important to note that after the Tallaruan Queen fell on her face, Allura did as well for 'diplomacy's sake'  
> You can imagine how well that went down  
> and yes I was projecting a lot of my own experiences in this i.e apples getting thrown in my face and mean teachers lmao  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
